


To Everything There is a Season

by danceswithhamsters01



Series: Reddit Prompts [17]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Here there be sadness to be had!, Papa Hawke passes away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 18:56:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16770913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01
Summary: Based on a prompt from r/dragonageMara Hawke knows that her father has been putting on a brave face and keeping a secret. Time finally runs out and hearts break.





	To Everything There is a Season

**Prompt 4:** A heavy footstep, a hesitation to speak, grey, a whisper, fear. 

Mara hesitated a moment before knocking on the door to her parents’ room. Mother had gone to the market with the twins less than an hour ago. They’d trade the extra eggs their hens laid and the elegant embroideries Bethany had made with seemingly little effort for bits and bobs they needed around the house. It was fun to watch Mother haggle with the vendors at their stalls, but recent weeks had made the eldest Hawke daughter want to stay home more often.

“Come in, pup,” a hoarse voice answered.

Her footsteps felt heavy as if her shoes were filled with  brick and mortar . The floorboards beneath her creaked as she slowly passed over the threshold. Malcolm Hawke smiled at his firstborn, golden eyes twinkling in contrast to the grey that was rapidly replacing the auburn in his thick, wavy mane.  He was laid up in the large bed with a thick book.  She could feel it, even if she couldn’t see it. Something made her magic tingle, made it speak to her without words. 

_Sick, he is so very sick_ , her healer’s sense whispered.  _It’s more than a simple summer cold._

He had lost weight in the past few months, and he was slower than he used to be when training with Carver, helping her little brother better master the great-sword he’d saved up for months to buy. Mara had once attempted to bring that up to her father. He’d laughed off her fears, explaining that he was just simply getting old, that it happened to everyone eventually, if they were lucky enough to live so long.

Her magic kept telling her that he was wrong, or that he wasn’t being entirely honest to her. Father had taught her what he could of magic, but he was no healer himself. Malcolm had said she would’ve been a prized student in the Circle, as mages who were born with a healing affinity were rare. He was more like Bethany, his magic favoring the competing attentions of fire and ice. Here and there, whenever they’d moved to a new place, he’d quietly sought out hedge mages, witches and friendly apostates, making inquiries. Every now and again, one of them would out him or herself as a healer and be invited to the Hawkes’ abode to give Mara lessons on healing.

Once, somehow, he’d convinced a Dalish mage to visit. The greying elven woman had been skeptical at the start of the lesson but had actually smiled by the end of it. Madena, as the elf called herself, would return several more times, teaching her to be extremely cautious when dealing with spirits. She would echo father’s words of “Never agree to anything in a dream!” She remembered being sad to see Madena go when it was time for the elf’s clan to move on.

“Well, what’s on your mind, pup?” he asked, drawing her mind back to the present.

She hesitated to speak for a few moments. _Time is growing short,_ her magic whispered, needling her.

“I just… wanted to see how you’re doing, Pa,” she offered with a smile that was braver than she felt.

Malcolm chuckled. “Always looking after everyone, aren’t you? Ever since the twins came along, you’ve been so watchful. I’m well enough, pup.”

_He’s lying, he is in pain,_ her magic murmured.

“I noticed you sounded rough. I thought you might like some of this,” she offered a steaming mug of tea with an extra generous dollop of honey to help cover the hint of elfroot.

He took it with a smile. He took a long pull before setting it on the nightstand.

“Learned your mother’s trick, I see. Extra honey to cover the medicine’s taste,” he said with a touch of amusement in his eyes.

“Well, it helps doesn’t it?” she said with a weak smile.

“That it does.”

They spoke about everything and nothing, dancing around what she wanted to blurt out so badly but lacked the courage to bring up. Eventually, the sound of the front door opening and the bickering of Bethany and Carver announced that the rest of the family had gotten home. She hugged her father as tightly as she could before getting up to help Mother and the twins with their finds from their afternoon in the market. Before she could get more than a pace away from the bed, he gently grabbed her wrist.

“I know they’ll be in good hands, pup. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”

She awoke to Mother’s weeping the following morning. Racing into her parent’s room, her heart sank. Malcolm laid there cold and unmoving, but with a peaceful expression on his face. He’d passed in his sleep. Mara held her mother while they both wept.

_I know they’ll be in good hands._

_I’ll try my best, I hope I don’t let you down, Pa,_ she thought between sobs.


End file.
